Ever so slowly working my way through Mary Roach's ouvré. Fortunately, at least one book buyer at the Portsmouth (NH) Public Library seems to be as big a fan as I am.
If you're squinting at the book cover, wondering what's going on: that's two ladybugs doin' it.
Mary is deemed "America's funniest science writer"; the competition is probably not that stiff (heh). This 2008 book's humor content is (I think) a bit lower than her usual, maybe because her overall topic itself is inherently funny. And maybe because she wants to avoid the cheap laughs; let's face it, laughs about sex can be the cheapest around. (For eager consumers, however, there's a cheap-but-funny joke on page 142, in a footnote. But Mary's just quoting a spokesman of the United States Postal Service.)
Mary looks at the history of sex research (Kinsey, Masters & Johnson), as well as some current practitioners around the world. As she has done in other books, she occasionally volunteers as a participant here, testing (um) devices, submitting to (um) measurements. And in one case, wangling the cooperation of her husband, Ed. With few exceptions, her descriptions are sober and clinical. Specifically, I only noticed one f-bomb (also in a footnote, page 99).
As always, Mary's eye for relevant, and often gross, detail serves her well. (Alfred Kinsey did what with a toothbrush?!)
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